


Diplomacy 101: First, Try Asking Nicely

by silverlining99



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverlining99/pseuds/silverlining99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leaving Bones behind wasn't easy. Getting him back has challenges of its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diplomacy 101: First, Try Asking Nicely

**Author's Note:**

> help_haiti lightning round story for weehobbit.

It takes thirty seconds to lose all control of the situation and leave Bones behind in the clutches of -- and Jim doesn't give a damn, he puts it exactly like this in his official report -- some righteously pissed off aliens.

It takes two weeks to get him back.

Two weeks, thirty urgent subspace communications with Starfleet Command, five days waiting for a career diplomat to rendezvous with the Enterprise, four long and infuriating negotiating sessions, and one final deal that would probably make Jim's skin crawl if it were struck for any other reason in the universe.

Instead it's for getting Bones beamed back to the Enterprise, alive and in one piece, and there is absolutely no part of Jim that can't count that a win.

What he's less okay with is being stuck on the bridge when it happens, though he'd far rather be down in the transporter room to see for himself that Bones is there, that he's okay, that he's still -- that he's back. Instead all he can do is open a comm line. "Mr. Scott," he barks. "Do you have him?"

"Aye, sir."

Jim glares daggers at the slimy little bastard still on the view screen. "Injuries?"

"None that I can see, Captain. And he's being...less than cooperative with getting scanned."

He makes sure to hide any sign of the relief that floods him. "Yeah, well, he's ordered to report to the medical bay anyway. And make sure you tell him I _don't_ mean to work."

Scotty coughs slightly. "Aye, sir, I'll pass that along."

It's another two hours before they finally leave orbit, and Jim has never been so glad to let a planet fade away into nothing but a data line in the sensor logs. "Spock," he says the second he's able, already stalking to the turbolift, "take the rest of the shift, would you?"

He goes straight to Bones's quarters and lets himself in, finds Bones just tugging on a clean shirt. "I should be really fucking pissed at you," he says evenly, without prelude.

Bones stares at him steadily. "Nice to see you, too. And go right ahead, but when I see a kid about to bleed out in front of me, Jim, I'm damn well going to try to do something about it. End of story."

"No, when I say we go, we go. *That* is the end of the fucking story, Bones."

Bones snorts and folds his arms over his chest. "Yeah, that sounds an awful lot like you are pissed at me."

"Not at you," Jim snaps, bristling at his suspicion that Bones doesn't actually get how fucking terrible the past two weeks have been. "I'm pissed as all hell at just about everything else, but not at you."

"No?" Bones arches an eyebrow sharply. "Even though we both know the whole damn mess could have been avoided if I weren't a stubborn son-of-a-bitch."

"We also both know I'd be dead about six times over by now if you weren't a stubborn son-of-a-bitch," Jim points out with a shrug. "Call it a wash." He sighs and looks Bones over with a critical eye as his anger bleeds away. "Are you really okay? I couldn't get information worth shit out of Chapel."

"Oddly enough, my head nurse knows better than to breach patient confidentiality without authorization or you having a damn good need to know." Bones scowls at him. "You not needing to know anything pretty much means I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Jim says mildly. "I need to know a lot more than you're giving me, Bones. Did they --"

"I'm fine, Jim," Bones snaps. Everything -- the tone of his voice, the set of his shoulders -- gives away the claim for the lie that it is. "Leave it."

"Like you would if the situations were reversed?" Jim snorts and goes straight for the small liquor cabinet Bones keeps. He splashes out two generous tumblers of whiskey and comes back, holds one out until Bones sighs and takes it. "So physically you're okay. I'll buy that. But?"

"But nothing. Jesus _Christ_ , Jim, why won't you let it --"

All the frustration he's had to keep contained since rematerializing on the Enterprise without Bones at his side -- it boils over without warning. He gulps down his entire drink at once and slams the glass down on a side table. "Because every time they said you were still alive," he says hoarsely, already reaching for fistfuls of Bones's shirt, "we all knew it might not mean shit in another five minutes."

His face registers surprise during the brief moment Jim can take note of it before kissing him hard, but Bones doesn't resist in the slightest. He grunts softly against Jim's mouth and his free hand comes up to cup the back of Jim's head. His lips part as easily as they ever have on the rare occasions they've indulged in anything physical.

At the first sensation of slick heat, Jim groans and hooks a forearm around the back of his neck. "Bones," he gasps, and somehow finds a way to step even closer. " _Tell_ me."

Bones tears his mouth away and presses his forehead to Jim's, breathes hard. "I was alone in a room," he says lowly. His fingers curl into Jim's hair. "That was it, all right? Just me and four goddamn walls and nothing to do but wonder."

"Okay." Jim kisses him again, only slightly less demanding about it. "Geez, was that so hard?"

Bones huffs out a laugh and draws away, sips at the whiskey he's somehow managed to keep hold of. "Yeah," he admits. "Damn it, Jim, the bitch of it wasn't worrying for myself. I was scared out of my mind for _you_."

"But I was --"

"Up here on the verge of doing something stupid on my behalf?" Bones rolls his eyes, then stares hard at Jim. "Or how about this, Jim -- you _would_ be dead six times over if I weren't a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, and all it takes it _once_. One single time for someone to give up on you when maybe -- maybe they should but I _wouldn't_ , when maybe that would make the difference."

" _That's_ what you worried about?"

"That's what I always worry about, moron. Congratulations, the stress of keeping you alive has actually become more all-consuming than anything else that's ever scared me shitless."

Jim hesitates. "Bones, do you -- do you try harder for me, than for other patients?"

"It's not that," Bones says with an air of impatience.

"Then what?"

Bones clenches his jaw and glances away. "If I lose you, I'm done."

"...done."

"With Starfleet. With _medicine_." Bones shakes his head slowly, his expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. "If you-- I've known for awhile, Jim, you're gonna outlive me or you're gonna be the last fucking patient I ever set hands on. Are you satisfied? Have you gotten what you wanted?"

Jim stares at him, amazed, and licks his lips slowly. That's not what he wants, not at all. He _knows_ what he wants -- what he _always_ wants but is almost never sure would be welcome. He's had a handful of times littered through the years, sure, but every single one involved too many drinks and not enough common sense, too much desperation and not enough finesse, and that's not what he wants this time.

Drunken fumbling they don't ever talk about.... It's not going to be enough. Not now, not ever again. "No," he says tightly, and he hopes like hell he doesn't regret this. "Bones, I want -- I want you."

Bones exhales hard, through his nose. His grip tightens around his glass, knuckles going white, and after a lengthy silence he turns away to set it on the table.

The muscles in his back shift and flex as he strips off his shirt. Jim finds it suddenly hard to breathe.

He doesn't turn back, just heads into the bedroom. Jim follows slowly, watches Bones bend to tug off his boots and shuck the rest of his clothes. He only starts peeling off his own clothes after Bones stretches out on his bed. "Bones," he says again, a little lost.

Bones takes his cock in hand and strokes it slowly. He's already well on his way to being fully hard. "We've said enough for now, Jim, okay?" He shifts, spreads his legs a little; his fingers slide down and rub his balls as he watches Jim kick his pants aside. "Later. Come here."

Jim swallows hard. He's not sure exactly what to expect from this, but it's past the point of no return and he knows there's nothing to do but run with it. He kneels at Bones's feet and crawls slowly up the bed, dragging one knee between Bones's legs, and he curls in to drag his tongue from navel to throat as he lets his weight ease down and settle. "Here?" he asks without expecting an answer, and kisses Bones softly while he hitches their hips together, cocks pinned between them.

Bones groans softly. "Yeah," he mutters, and his hands come up to cup Jim's face and hold it still for a deeper kiss. Jim runs a hand along his hip and rocks down lazily as he licks hungrily into Bones's mouth. "Right there. Christ. Jim."

Jim digs his fingers into the side of Bones's ass and surges helplessly against him, drags his mouth along Bones's jaw, down his throat. "It's never gonna happen again," he mumbles. He tastes Bones's skin, inhales deeply. "Where you stay, I stay."

Bones's hands sweep lightly over his shoulders, his back. It's an oddly tender touch, at odds with the needy upward push of his hips. "Now who's the stubborn one?"

His dry, fond tone does more to ease Jim's mind than anything else could. Jim grins and starts shifting his knees backward, licking a slow line down Bones's chest. "You've been saying that for _years_ , Bones. Sing a new song, why don't you?"

"Wh-- why bother? That one gets the point across."

Jim just laughs and keeps moving.

He pauses briefly to bite repeatedly at one nipple as he goes, thrills at Bones's sharp intake of breath and the tightening of Bones's hand on his bicep. He doesn't delay long, though, before going straight for the prize, sitting back on his heels and curling low to take Bones's cock deep into his mouth. He rolls his eyes up as he grips the base in the loose circle of his fingers and draws back to work his tongue under the head; Bones has folded his arms under his head and is watching him intently, the set of his mouth terse, his eyes dark and narrow.

Jim closes his own eyes and loses himself in his task. He's thought about this before, had his share of idle daydreams about having more than sloppy kisses and dry humping to quick release, but he never really anticipated this, his own eagerness, the thrill of having _Bones_ thick and hot and hard under his tongue, the heady blend of scent and taste and the feel of Bones's stomach rising and falling under his hand as he strokes any skin he can reach.

He can tell Bones is tense, trying to keep himself in control, and it's that that pushes him over the edge after long minutes -- the fact of breaking past it and provoking a swift, involuntary thrust into his mouth. He catches one of Bones's legs behind the knee and pushes it up and out as he moves to focus attention on Bones's balls, licking, rolling them under his tongue, sucking them carefully into his mouth.

"Jim," Bones says harshly. Jim gives his own cock a few swift strokes and moves even lower, swipes his tongue in a long stripe that makes Bones jerk. "Jesus, Jim, you motherfucking --" He trembles and draws his legs higher. " _More_."

Jim groans and presses his face in, licks eagerly until he has to draw back for breath. He feels almost disconnected from himself, like it's someone else here, trailing soft kisses back up the length of Bones's cock, someone else sucking briefly on his thumb and pressing it slowly in, someone else entirely rearing back to look Bones in the eye and blurt out, "let me fuck you."

It comes out sounding more like an order than the desperate plea it is in his mind.

Bones stares at him for a long moment, not a hint of a reaction showing on his face, then twists in a half-roll and fumbles in the bedside drawer. Jim takes the vial he produces, his hands shaking a little. "Are you sure?" he asks unsteadily. He slicks his cock in quick strokes and feels dizzy as he gazes down at Bones, sprawled out for him, easily accepting the careful plunge of Jim's fingers. "Bones, are you--"

"I'm sure, Jim, would you just hurry it the fuck up already?" Bones graces him with a small, self-mocking smile. "Please."

Jim has to grit his teeth and breathe deep just to get control over the sudden aching pressure in his balls. "Okay," he says, mostly to himself. "Okay, this is... Okay."

"Kind of hoping for more than okay, kid," Bones grumbles, and it helps, helps Jim shake his head and choke out a quick laugh and relax. "I thought you had a _reputation_ and all."

He shifts closer, draws Bones's thighs over his own as he hitches his knees further up. "I'm a legend," he says with mock indignation as he begins pressing the head of his cock in, "and don't you forget it."

Bones rests his hands on Jim's knees, rubs them gently. Jim slips his own hands under Bones's back and lifts, eases the angle of his slow, agonizing slide. His eyes closed, his breathing kept carefully steady, Bones snorts lightly. "I've got a hell of a lot of crap competing for my memory, Jim." He groans quietly as Jim rocks down to seat himself as deep as possible. "You want a spot? Earn it."

"Is it genetic?" Jim curves his body down and kisses Bones eagerly. His hips pump helplessly; Bones grunts into his mouth and draws his legs higher and grabs a fistful of Jim's hair. "Were you _born_ a demanding bastard?"

"Definitely molded by the-- _fuck_ \-- idiots around me." Bones bites down on Jim's lower lip, a brief hurt. "Jim, damn it, move, I can -- _now_."

Jim pulls far back and pushes deep again, with force. It makes Bones tip his head back, expose his throat to Jim's hungry, wandering mouth. "Bones," he says desperately, breathlessly. He muscles his arms behind Bones's knees and pushes his legs back, and drags his teeth across Bones's chest. The tight heat around his cock is rapidly getting the better of him, driving his pace to quicken, dooming the entire thing to being over far sooner than he would prefer. He wants to say more, wants suddenly to say everything he's ever thought.

He just can't figure out the right words for any of it.

His knees keep slipping back and messing with his leverage, so he hitches them close again and pushes upright. Bones braces one foot in the crook of Jim's shoulder as Jim wraps a hand around Bones and jerks him in time to his own relentless thrusts. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasps. Bones's foot slips up over his shoulder and Jim slumps a little lower; Bones bites back some vehement sound at the change in angle. "Bones, oh my god, this is-- you're --"

Bones shudders and comes without warning, his eyes locked on Jim's. It's got to be, Jim thinks, the most amazing thing he's ever seen. He lets his hand slow and gentle, works Bones through it as he grins breathlessly and keeps snapping his hips forward. "See? Way more than okay, huh?" he says lightly, grateful for anything he can still joke about.

Bones hisses and grabs Jim's wrist to still his hand. "Unless your ego's in your dick, Jim, don't look to me for help stroking it."

"What if that's _exactly_ where it is?"

With a low, rich laugh, Bones reaches up to draw Jim down and kiss him slowly, intently. "Good a place as any, I suppose," he mutters, his hand warm on Jim's cheek. "Carry on, in that case."

Jim closes his eyes and lets everything go except the insistent pressure gathering in his balls. When he comes he bites softly on Bones's jaw and groans. "Ahh, fuck...yeah. _Yeah_."

Bones rubs his back lazily, palms his ass and pulls to encourage his last few slow strokes. "All right, there?"

Jim sags, licks idly at his neck. "Ask me again when I remember my name, 'kay?" He slowly untangles himself and shifts over to sprawl on his stomach. "Bones," he mumbles tiredly, into the pillow. "ungh. Can I be the last person you put your hands on like that, too?"

A pause, and then Bones's weight rolls against him. Jim feels the damp press of lips on the back of his neck. "And you call me a demanding bastard," Bones says quietly, warmly. "Go to sleep, Jim. Something tells me you haven't been getting much lately."

"But I want--"

"You've got it, you moron." Bones sighs, a gust of air across Jim's shoulder. "Anything you want. Just ask."

Jim yawns and lets his eyes slip shut. "Don't need anything else. Bones...don't go anywhere."

"I won't."


End file.
